


With My Whole Life

by gunslingaaahhh



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunslingaaahhh/pseuds/gunslingaaahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is in prison and the team finds little ways to make things more bearable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With My Whole Life

Steve felt like he was losing his mind, pacing the cell and practically dying for his one hour outside. He needed to be stimulated, needed something to do or read or something. Being so sedentary was threatening to drive him to madness.

Until Chin brought him the mp3 player, already cued up with music. He was pretty sure it wasn't something he was supposed to have, and made sure to hide it carefully in his cell when he wasn't using it. Periodically Chin or Danny or Kono would take it back, get it charged up, and someone else would bring it back, Jenna or someone.

The music was carefully organized into play-lists, some of which made Steve laugh a little. There was one entitled “Hard-ass,” and all of the music was perfectly suited to Steve's little in-cell exercise routine. Another was called “Peace,” and contained instrumental pieces or those white noise tracks that were just recordings of the ocean. That one he liked for after lights-out, eyes closed and pretending he was at home in bed, the windows open and the sound of the waves crashing rising up to meet him.

Someone – Kono, he was sure – had created a play-list chock full of bass-fueled dance music. All the tracks had bawdy, filthy lyrics, and Steve couldn't help but laugh; he was positive Danny had gone through the roof over that. He knew Kono didn't mean it in a “come hither” way so much as a “this music is absurd and we have the same sense of humor' way, and for that he loved her.

His favorite, though, was a list Danny had made. He hadn't given it a name, which was oddly appropriate, since the thing between them didn't actually have a name itself. It was simply “Untitled,” and contained a variety of folk music, all of it relaxing and all of it achingly sweet. It was like Danny had somehow found every song on the planet that perfectly captured how Steve felt about him and vice versa. Some of them were a little goofy, overflowing with flowery metaphor and loud banjo, and some of them made him ache so bad he wept. A couple were spiritual, and while Steve wasn't a God-fearing man, he found he didn't mind those tunes much at all.

He hated having to smuggle the mp3 player back to whoever was visiting, but he had no way to charge it himself. Once he'd asked, as nonchalantly as he could, if the rest of the team conspired on the musical selections. It might seem funny to them, the choices Danny had made. Jenna had shrugged and told him that no, they each had created their own little mix for him, no one really looked over anyone else's play-list. She'd then confessed to being the creator of the “Hard-ass” mix, which had made Steve laugh so hard he'd cried; he was so sure that had been a combined effort of Danny and Kono.

The play-lists changed here and there, some songs disappearing only to be replaced by new ones. He didn't mind, the variety helped spice things up a little, and he always liked the surprise of a new track coming on over his ear-buds. Danny's play-list changed depending on his mood, it seemed; sometimes all the songs were the type that made Steve fidgety and in desperate need to wrap his arms around Danny's broad shoulders. Other times, the lyrics all spoke of someone being a goofball and messing up, not paying attention, basically all the things Danny told him on a regular basis.

More often than not, though, Danny's song choices said the same thing, loud and clear: _I miss you_.

Steve would clutch the mp3 player in his fist, held tight to his chest as he lay curled on his side, knees almost to his chest. He knew all the words to the songs now, and he'd mouth them there in the darkness, as silent tears ran from his eyes and over the bridge of his nose. Wiping at his eyes, listening to the music and wishing he were at home in his own bed, wrapped around Danny with the smaller man wrapped around him, he'd whisper it back, knowing that Danny knew, somehow.

Knew that it wasn't just _I miss you_ , not anymore. When Danny came to visit and smuggle the mp3 player back out to be charged, he looked Steve in the eye, emotions conveyed in his eyes.

 _I miss you_.

Steve stared back, putting every ounce of his own feelings into the look he was giving Danny now, hoping he'd get it.

 _I love you_.

Danny smiled, a soft thing, and nodded.

He got it.  



End file.
